Bones

“A dinosaur? Sure? In here?”
“I think so”, she said, as they pushed through the pandemonium towards the centre.

The playground resonated with the furore of a few dozen children, no more than 6, that had gathered around something that had captivated the imagination of many.

With a little effort, they made it to the heart of the clamour, where two or three, cloaked in calm, stared at what seemed dusty fragments of a bone.

It stirred them into a fanciful reverie of far away, of long ago, of the crude thrills of a portentous past. The possibilities absorbed them, and consumed them, and hushed them into quiet enticement.

In the distance, a 13 year old, with a snort of arrogance, quipped at the absurdity of kids fussing over broken eggshells in the dirt.

by Oishee

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